


Pressing Flowers

by softgrungeprophet



Series: Prophet + Archangels Domestic 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Flowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrungeprophet/pseuds/softgrungeprophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael presses some flowers with Chuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pressing flowers

Chuck fiddled with the flower press. It had been Lucifer's idea. He wanted to buy it, to smash flowers—so he could glue them to the wall or something destructive, probably. But he'd immediately lost interest in them. So Chuck sat on the threadbare couch with a flower press in his lap, spinning the wingnuts between his thumb and forefinger. He loosened one, and tightened another, and so on and so on, just messing with them. There were no flowers in the press. He just liked the way the wingnuts twirled.

The front door opened, and the floor creaked as someone entered the house. Michael, probably. Lucifer was never so quiet when he came home. Chuck looked up. Sure enough, Michael walked into the living room, with a bouquet under his arm.

"Good afternoon, Chuck."

Chuck grinned. "Hi, Michael." He set the flower press aside and stood up. As he walked over to greet Michael with a kiss, he asked, "Are those for me?"

"Of course." Michael pushed the beribboned cluster of wild roses and violets into Chuck's hands. He kissed Chuck's face and smiled the slightest bit—a very Archaic kind of smile that nonetheless warmed his entire demeanor. "I would never buy flowers for Lucifer. He would only light them on fire, or something equally destructive." He shook his head. "Anyway, he doesn't deserve flowers."

"You're right." Chuck laughed and poked at the flowers. He sniffed one of the purpley-pink roses. He paused, and stroked one of the petals. "Does that mean _I_ deserve flowers? Or did you just... just feel like buying some?"

Michael laughed quietly and urged Chuck toward the couch, with a hand at the small of his back, warm. They sat down together and he said, "You certainly deserve flowers." He kissed Chuck's neck.

Chuck blushed. "Th—uh... Thank you, Michael."

"You're welcome." Michael looped his arm around Chuck's waist. He noted the bolted-together pieces of plywood that made up the flower press on the side table. He reached for it, and fiddled with the screws. "One of Lucifer's forgotten toys?"

"Uh... yeah." Chuck's nose wrinkled. He spun one of the wingnuts with the tip of his finger.

Michael shook his head and plucked one of the roses and one of the violets from the bouquet in Chuck's arms. He fiddled with them, until satisfied—picked off any extra bits of stem. With a content, focused expression, and a little smile, he opened the flower press so he could set the blossoms on the lower board. Then he put it all back together. Twirled the screws until they held the boards together tightly. "In a while, we'll have some pretty dried flowers, hm?"

Chuck smiled and took the press from him. "We can put them in a picture frame or something when they're all dried out."

Michael nodded and pulled Chuck against his side. "Absolutely."


	2. Suncatcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I forgot I had meant to continue it. So I continued it.  
> Arts and crafts with Chuck and Michael. And an appearance from Lucifer at the end, because prophet sandwich.

Chuck glared at the flower press. He frowned and pushed at the wings of the screws and even grunted a little, but they wouldn't budge. "Dammit, Michael—you closed these too tight!" He let out an exasperated breath and continued his attempt to loosen the wingnuts. They, in turn, continued to remain absolutely fast. Chuck gave up after a few seconds, hand sore, and sighed as he leaned back in his chair. He glowered at Michael.

Michael snorted and moved over to the table. "All you need to do is ask for assistance." He sat beside Chuck, smiling slightly, as if laughing at some little joke inside his brain, and took the press from the smaller man's hands. "I'm willing to open it." He twisted each of the wingnuts until they popped off, and lifted away the top board to reveal the flattened, dried out flowers. Soft pink. He barely brushed a finger across one.

"Do you have someplace you'd like to put them?"

Chuck shrugged.

Shaking his head, Michael stood. He disappeared into the hallway for a minute or so. Made rustling noises. From the sound of things, he nearly dropped something. But he emerged from the hall unscathed with a little box in his arms. He set it on the table and said, "I'm not entirely certain where this is from or when we acquired it, but I remembered we own it."

He took the lid off the shoebox. There were some tubes of paint inside. A few square glass bottles. Glaze and the like. Some little polygonal glass sheets and metallic tape of some kind.

"I think it's a prism-making kit—not the paint, obviously. But some of it." He took out two sheets of the clear glass or plastic. They were identical, and diamond-shaped, with beveled edges. About the size of Chuck's hand if he squeezed his fingers together.

Michael pulled out his phone—somehow, despite being an angel, he'd roped Chuck into buying him an iPhone—and tapped at it a few times. Googled how to make suncatchers. When he seemed satisfied, he pocketed his phone and rummaged around in the box.

Together, Chuck and Michael ended up pasting the two little pressed flowers onto the flat side of one of the glass diamonds, and they covered the flowers with rice paper. Used a diluted concoction of glue to hold the glass together.

While the glue dried, Michael made lemonade. He put extra sugar in Chuck's.

Chuck wrapped the metal tape around the edges of the joined glass. He sipped at his lemonade and frowned.

"How are we gonna hang this? There's no... Well, there's no hole."

"Oh." Michael tapped the tabletop beside the (somewhat crude-looking, to be honest) suncatcher. He hummed. "We could probably use the copper tape to make... eyelets, of a sort." He fiddled with the crystal and the tape. He made very careful loops with it on the top corner of the diamond, and frowned while he worked. Eventually he seemed satisfied, with a little hole to hang the piece. He held it up. "Either we hang it on a ribbon or we nail it to the wall."

Chuck went to find a stray ribbon.

Eventually, the beveled glass diamond hung in the window, from an organza ribbon the color of champagne. It glinted in the sunlight, and sent tiny rainbows to play on the far wall of the living room. It bounced a little, when the front door slammed, and the rainbows danced. It swung lightly. Lucifer walked into the room, and paused in the doorway.

He grinned.

"You guys are so domestic. It's disgusting."

Chuck scowled at him.

Lucifer laughed and walked over to give them both a kiss on the cheek. He stood between them, and wrapped an arm around each of their waists, and muttered, "I guess it's kind of pretty."

Michael pinched him.


End file.
